


Clover, chips and kisses

by moonfairy13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Romantic Fluff, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23818579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/pseuds/moonfairy13
Summary: When George and Angelina turn up at Hermione's flat with wine, fish and chips and a mute Fred Weasley, it soon becomes clear that they need her help with a faulty product. But perhaps not the kind of help that they're usually looking for...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 45
Kudos: 401





	Clover, chips and kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Two years ago today, I wrote and posted a one-shot to see if I enjoyed writing fan fiction as much as I enjoyed reading it. It turns out that I did. The one-shot grew into a 400k word series, which I'm still updating weekly, and about 16 other shorter fics. 
> 
> So today I'm posting a new fluffy one-shot to mark the anniversary. Just for fun, I counted the total number of words I've published in fanfics, and this week I appear to have passed the half a million mark - so another reason to celebrate (and goodness knows we all need them right now!) 
> 
> Hope you're well and safe, and hope you enjoy the Fremione fluff. Big thanks to DreamyStranger for sending me really helpful comments about this and for always spurring me on by highlighting the bits she loves :-)

Hermione was in the kitchen when the floo whooshed into life. Head in the fridge, she was debating what to have for her dinner. 

“Are you decent?”

Hermione tipped her head to one side. She was almost certain that was George’s voice. It was slightly deeper than Fred’s, and a bit more gravelly. But she had picked up that they had been trying to sound more like each other of late. At least around her. According to George’s girlfriend, Angelina, it was something to do with seeing if they could fool one of the two non-family members – with the other being Angelina herself – who could consistently tell them apart.

“I’m in the kitchen, George,” she called, deciding to go with her instinct. Shutting the fridge door, she took the few steps into her own living room and smiled when she saw that both Angelina and Fred were with him. “Hello,” she said, giving them each a hug in turn, and mumbling friendly words as she did. Then she stepped back, having noticed something. George and Angelina had both spoken their greetings. Fred had not.

“Hi Fred,” Hermione said, and the elder twin simply raised his hand in a wave, giving Hermione an apologetic smile.

“Can’t you talk?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Sponsored silence?” 

Fred frowned; confused at the muggle term.

“No then,” Hermione continued chatting herself through the options before turning to his twin. “Have you broken Fred?”

George nodded, and gently pushed his brother further into Hermione’s living room. “Sorry,” he said, although Hermione noted that he didn’t look very contrite. At least not nearly as contrite as Fred appeared. 

“We’ve brought dinner, and wine.” Angelina said. 

“As a token of our affection,” George added. “Or advance payment for your help, if you like.”

“You want me to help?” Hermione no longer became agitated when the twins cocked up their experiments these days. Now that she didn’t have to fight to save herself and her friends from dark forces, she was a bit more chilled out and able to take the tall, funny men and their antics in her stride. This wouldn’t be the first time that the twins had called on her help to get them out of a bit of a jam. “You’d better come in properly then…”

She pushed a pile of books and papers to one side of the large coffee table before plumping a couple of cushions to make the sofas which sat on either side of it look even more appealing. George and Angelina plopped their offerings onto the table and George immediately turned towards the kitchen. “I’ll get plates,” he said, making Hermione smile. Trust Molly Weasley to have trained her sons to automatically take responsibility for the planning and preparation of meals. Although, Hermione mused, Ron did seem to have missed that training, preferring to focus predominantly on consumption. Which was one of the many reasons that they hadn’t worked out as a couple.

“Here we go!” George’s voice was cheerful as he dished out plates, cutlery, napkins, fish and chips, while Angelina gathered glasses and poured wine. For a few minutes, there was complete silence as they enjoyed the food, and then they chatted about the shop for a bit, giving Hermione time to survey the situation before she spoke again.

“What happened then?” Hermione’s question was clearly for the twin who retained the power of speech but, as she asked it, it was Fred’s deep brown eyes that she was looking into. And then, when she realised that she was in danger of looking into them for too long, even given that she had the excuse of needing to assess his wellbeing, she tore her gaze away and turned it on his brother, who was grinning as he explained.

“New product,” George said, putting his cutlery down. “Gone slightly wrong.”

“In what way?” Hermione was all business now, wanting to help her friend return to normal. She didn’t like it when Fred wasn’t chattering away, giving his usual commentary and regularly teasing her into a blush. It didn’t seem right, at all.

“It’s supposed to stop your tongue from running away from you in the presence of someone you fancy,” George summarised. “But I think we used too much clover leaf. Now Fred can’t talk at all. He’s been like this for a few hours now.”

“Oh Fred, you muppet!” Hermione’s voice was a mixture of weary and tender, and Fred grinned broadly. He loved it when Hermione called him pet names, and muppet was one of her favourites for him. Hermione turned back to his brother. “Antidote?”

George shrugged. “We don’t make antidotes as we go along. Generally we wait until we have a finished product and then we work on that. But we’ve tried everything we can think of. There’s only one more possible solution, other than waiting it out, which could take days.”

“Which is?”

“To get Fred a snog off the witch he fancies.” George held Hermione’s gaze, watching her reaction. There might have been a hint of blush, he thought, but he wouldn’t have put any money on it. Which was saying something, because George, Fred and their brothers would put money on almost anything. Including whether this would work or not; if it did, Bill was going to owe George a bottle of firewhisky later tonight. 

Hermione gave a small frown. “Why?”

“It’ll override the need for the potion in the first place. We learned that little fact about potions which draw on attraction when we created the enchanted mistletoe last Christmas.”

Oh, yes. Hermione remembered that mistletoe. Luckily, she had managed to cast a charm over herself which had rendered herself immune to it, a fact that had seemed to cause Fred to be highly disappointed. Probably, she thought, because he had wanted to catch her with somebody embarrassing.

“You should try that, then.” Hermione deliberately looked downwards, apparently concentrating on dissecting the batter off her last bit of fish. There was always a bit too much batter, she found, but if she pulled about a third of it off and left it on the side of her plate, then the batter-to-fish ratio was perfect. And it never went to waste. Fred would always await the dissection as if he were a seagull in the presence of a packet of chips, and his fork would swoop in to collect the rejected pieces as soon as they made it to the edge of Hermione’s plate. Thinking about this, and pushing the batter in Fred’s direction to let him know he had permission to dive in, at least took her mind off thinking about George taking Fred out to snog whichever witch he currently fancied. 

“Mmmmm.” George’s reply was non-committal, and Hermione looked up just in time to see Angelina giving him a significant look. They were having one of those conversations that couples have, where they use their eyes and facial expressions to exchange their thoughts, but Hermione had no idea what they were saying. She turned to Fred, who had finished the batter, piled his plate on top of George's and, in doing so, had spotted a notepad on her pile. He was asking with his eyes – in a way that she actually could understand – if he could have it, to write on. Nodding, Hermione passed him the notebook and a muggle pen which he looked at delightedly before leaning over it, and then showing her his work.

_I’m really sorry about George_ , he wrote. _Being a dick_.

Hermione gave him a soft smile. “Don’t worry,” she said. She couldn’t work out where George was going with all of this, but it wasn’t Fred’s fault.

Fred wrote again, carefully shielding the pad so that the others couldn’t see.

_I’d really like to kiss you._

Hermione stared at the words on the pad, assuming that she must be reading them incorrectly. After the third reading, when the words hadn’t changed, she looked into Fred’s eyes and saw a warm smile.

_Please?_

It didn’t make logical sense to Hermione, but she had liked Fred for a while now, and she was willing to go with it, just for the experience of kissing a wizard who she thought was gorgeous, and kind, and funny. A couple of years ago, she would have been worried about the repercussions. These days, she was more open to a less cautious approach. And, in any case, if Fred hurt her, Hermione wouldn’t need to do anything. Heck, if she even wanted to hex him, she would have to get in line behind Harry, Ginny, Molly and Bill, at the very least. 

Fred touched her shoulder gently with his fingers, trying to get her attention back on him. When she looked at him, she saw the same question – _please_ – in his eyes. In response, Hermione put her cutlery down, lifted her now-empty plate from her lap to the table, wiped her lips with a napkin and then, in a gesture that surprised everyone, including herself, moved across the sofa and straddled Fred’s lap.

“Okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands on her thighs; unsure where else to put them. This was possibly the boldest thing that she had ever done with a man and, if she had taken time to think about it, she could have bet that George’s eyes would be wide.

Fred leaned forward, lifting her hands and putting them against his chest so that Hermione could balance before placing his own gently on her hips. And then he touched his lips to hers. 

Their first kiss was lighter than she would ever have imagined. His lips tasted of salt and wine, and Hermione felt herself beginning to melt as he gently teased her mouth. When she felt Fred’s tongue part her lips and slip between then, it was the softest of caresses; just a gentle touching of the tip to her own tongue in a gesture which sent sparks flying to her core. One of his hands rose up her body, trailing electricity on its journey, and then Fred’s fingers wove slowly into her hair as he tipped her face to one side and licked across her bottom lip. Hermione moaned softly, and it was as if Fred drank in the sound, his own breath quickening when he realised that she was responding to him in the way that he had always hoped she would.

“Wow.” The previously mute wizard managed one word between kisses and gave Hermione a tender smile before leaning back in again. Hermione didn’t even register the fact that his word confirmed the effectiveness of her action. George and Angelina looked at each other and raised their eyebrows though. Both felt like they were intruding and, by mutual and silent agreement, George cast a silencing spell over the two of them as they rose. Angelina raised her wand to levitate the remnants of their meal to the kitchen so that they could wash up and give the new couple some privacy. 

Fred pulled back gently and looked into Hermione’s eyes. “Hello, love…”

“Hi...” That was all Hermione could manage before she sank back into his arms and reattached her lips to his. Fred smiled at the knowledge that she had definitely initiated that round of kissing, and allowed his fingertips to rove up and down her spine, stroking her in gentle waves.

Hermione felt boneless. It felt like Fred was making love to her mouth with his own. Was that the effect of the potion, or was this what kissing him would always feel like? If the latter, then Hermione wondered whether it might be possible to live out the rest of her life in Fred’s lap. Surely food could be brought to her, while she spent her days wrapped in his arms with these soft lips the focus of her world. More sparks dived to her core and she wriggled further up his lap, pressing herself to him and eliciting a soft groan from Fred.

“Careful,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“You’ll have me thinking you fancy me back…”

“Back?”

“Yeah,” he nipped gently at her neck. “Liked you for a while now. That’s why they brought me here...”

“Oh.” Pause for thinking. A kiss to Fred’s neck, just to even things out. “Me too.” Another kiss, and then she pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. “Since Bill’s wedding, I think.”

“That is a while…” he observed; his long, clever fingers still stroking her into a level of relaxation that Hermione didn’t often attain.

“Mmmmmm.” Hermione couldn’t help the little sounds she was making in response to his touch, but then she sat up straighter, just for a moment. “I kissed Ron,” she said, although she wasn’t sure why.

“Meh … worse things happen at sea,” Fred quipped, and they both began to giggle. A lot of things had happened since she had kissed Ron. Fred had fought for his life; their family had regrouped; the whole of the wizarding world had subtly shifted, although in a good way. And now, here he was; whole and alive, with the witch of his dreams in his lap. Fred leaned in and gave Hermione another kiss, this time a firmer, almost more brotherly one which landed full on her lips, although she certainly didn’t feel sisterly towards him. And, from the feel of the part of him that was hard and pressing between her legs as she straddled him, he didn’t either. “Want to give this a try, love? Us?” he asked softly, and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah … I think I do,” she added.

“We just need to get rid of the gate crashers,” he quipped in a slightly louder voice, designed to attract his brother’s attention. He flicked his eyes to the kitchen and Hermione giggled, the noise drawing George’s head around the kitchen door.

“I believe I’ve mended Fred for you, but I think perhaps I had better keep him overnight … for observation,” Hermione said, raising her voice a little so that George would be sure that she was addressing him.

“Oh yeah?” His grin was wide, and happy.

“I have no problem with this plan,” Fred said, his arms further tightening around his witch’s waist.

“Oh, I just bet you don’t, Freddie,” Angelina said, coming out of the kitchen door behind George and winking at Hermione. She wanted to ask Hermione if she needed anything, like maybe a contraceptive charm, but took one more look at the two of them and decided against doing that. They needed space, and Fred would soon message her if need be. “Come on, you,” she said, steering George towards the fireplace and scanning the mantlepiece for the bowl which held the floo powder. “Don’t we still need to look in on Bill?”

George saluted as he was pulled into the fireplace, and Angelina blew the new couple a kiss.

“Thanks for your help, Hermione,” George said, cheerfully, as he watched his twin take the witch’s face gently in his hand and tip her head slightly to one side before leaning in for another deep kiss which looked like it was going to last them all the way to the bedroom. “I knew you’d have the answer.”


End file.
